


permanently inked

by b0kuto



Category: Haikyuu!!, 鬼滅の刃 | Kimetsu no Yaiba (Manga)
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Emotional, Gen, Historical, Inspired by Kimetsu no Yaiba
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24233098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/b0kuto/pseuds/b0kuto
Summary: "Demons have walked this land ever since Heian period. They reek of pure bloodthirst and death. To protect himself from the demon slayer corps, Muzan Kibutsuji, the progenitor of demons, created the demon moons「鬼月」."/ re-imagining terushima yuuji as a lower demon moon /
Kudos: 8





	permanently inked

**character profile**  


  * Zumi/墨 translates to ink. 
  * Terushima is ranked as lower moon 3 because he doesn’t care about the number of humans he consumes.
  * He cares more about toying his target and will mark them with his signature tattoo before killing them.
  * In the story, Terushima is a kabuki actor, traditional Japanese dance-drama theatre art.
  * Many kabuki actors kept patrons (both male and female upperclassmen) as an extra source of income, and Terushima feeds on his patrons.
  * Terushima takes the surname of Arima here, so to avoid confusion, I will be using Yuuji to address him.



☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Hizen, Edo period

“Matsukura-sama, I’m entering.” Yuuji paused to announce his entrance before sliding open the shoji*. Matsukura Taka was in his late 20s, and he was a man with a strong build. He donned a simple but well-tailored kimono made from exquisite fabrics, fitting for a successor to the Matsukura clan. 

“Ah, Zumi. I am looking forward to today.” Matsukura’s eyes gleamed in eager anticipation. Yuuji grinned, setting his box of tools down on the tatami. “So am I, Taka-kun.” With experienced hands, Yuuji set up the opium pipes over the oil lamp, itching to whiff in a puff. 

As the opium vapors filled up the room, the tension in Matsukura’s body eased and his gaze softened. “Remember our promise, Taka-kun?” Yuuji hushed a tantalizing whisper down Matsukura’s neck as he loosened the collars of Matsukura’s kimono. “No telling.” Matsukura grinned, enchanted by the psychedelic opium vapors, and the bewitching aura radiating off Yuuji. 

“Yes, it’s a secret just between us. What an intimate expression, right?” Yuuji’s fingers lingered on Matsukura’s skin after cleaning the region, his words were almost intoxicating to Matsukura. 

Yuuji chose the finest needle in his toolbox, attached it to his wooden handle and dipped it into the Nara ink*. 

“What are you planning to tattoo on me?” Matsukura’s voice was raspy with ecstasy and excitement.

“遊 [yuu].” 

Not giving Matsukura a moment to ask why, Yuuji began prodding the needle into Matsukura’s skin. 

Tattooing is a time-consuming process, but Yuuji loves it. He takes pleasure in seeing his patrons groan in agony, begging him to be gentler. And Yuuji always made sure to poke at their skin _even harder_ after they plead. He _needs_ them to feel the needles digging into their skin and the ink bleeding into their body.

Because no one listened to his pleading when they pierced his skin over and over again. 

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Yuuji’s mother was a Dutch lady, married into the Arima clan for trade relations. He couldn’t remember much, but she had luscious golden locks, just like his. They were the only "outsiders" in the house, the only ones who looked different and had a different God. Yuuji did not care about the others, he was contented with just being with his mother. She always spoke with an accent, and Yuuji remembered making fun of her whenever she used Dutch instead of Japanese.

That child with laughter that chimed like bells, and a heart as pure as the driven snow, Arima Yuuji, died on the day when the Shogunate announced the ban on Christianity. 

That night, Yuuji was sleeping in his mother’s embrace, just like every other night, when Arima Naozumi barged into the room with a gang of yakuza members. Eyes still blurry from his sleep, Yuuji screamed for his mother as the yakuza dragged him away. 

His mother fumbled to get up, desperately reaching out for Yuuji's hands.

“PLEASE NAOZUMI! Don’t take Yu-”

Yuuji’s name choked in her throat as Naozumi’s sword pierced through her left chest. Naozumi tilted his head slightly, pulled out his sword from Yuuji's mother, smiling at Yuuji with pure satisfaction the entire time. And that was Yuuji’s last glimpse of his mother before the yakuza members threw him into the black market.

For the years he spent as a commodity in the black market, the yakuza had marked him with tattoos stretching from his left arm to his entire back. Yuuji remembers those malicious eyes, oozing with sadistic pleasure as they pinned him down, and carved those painful humiliations into his skin. Yuuji felt like the ink could reach his bones. It felt like the ink had seeped into his blood, drowning him with pitch dark venom from the inside out. 

He begged them to stop, to be gentler, to let him go, to just kill him instead. But he lived, he lived in years of darkness before he met him.

“Tsk tsk…what a pretty boy, dirtied by those irezumi (入れ墨, an old saying for tattoos). Pity. Any humans who are _marked_ are just cursed abomination.” 

A buyer? This was rare. Yuuji pulled himself closer, his body bloody with all his bleeding tattoos. Yuuji was not a profitable boy despite his blonde hair and fair skin. Because whenever he was given a new tattoo, he would keep pricking at the wounds so the tattoos could never heal nicely. His fingernails were always dirtied by dried blood, and the marks on his body could only be deciphered as atrocious carvings. It was his only way to be in control of his life. 

“C’mon my child, don’t be afraid.” The man crouched down. “Don’t you want to clean yourself up? How dare they ruin you like this, right?” The man’s words sparked something within Yuuji. Clean up? Can he wash these inks away? Can he erase these putrid memories running in his blood? 

Yuuji nodded slightly, finally looking up to meet the man’s eyes. Muzan Kibutsuji’s red eyes stared back at him. He held an inviting smile but none of that reached his eyes. His eyes were flashing bloodthirst and danger. 

"Then promise me, you will be my shield.” Muzan held Yuuji’s gaze while dragging his nails across his wrist, releasing a slow stream of blood. 

“I promise.” Yuuji swallowed down all his fears and doubts about this man, because all he had ever wanted, was to wash these inks away.

“Then drink up, Zumi, my good boy Zumi.” 

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

“Ahh..it’s a clean job.” Yuuji purred out as he marveled at the completed tattoo on Matsukura’s neck. But only silence answered him. Yuuji smirked, his eyes clouded by an alluring red hue. He leaned into Matsukura, savoring the lingering scent of human blood that trickled out of the freshly-done tattoo.

Tracing his fingers along the lines of the tattoo, Yuuji sighed, “Taka-kun, if you don’t wake up now, you won’t get to see this beauty before I eat you up, okay?”. And Yuuji knew Matsukura could never answer him. 

His demonic power was his kuro-ketsu (黒血: black blood). The pitch dark Nara ink bleeding out from Yuuji’s needles came from Yuuji himself. His heart is pumped by this venomous, lethal ink-blood in his veins. By injecting a small dose of his kuro-ketsu through tattoos, the poison will spread through the body slowly, leaving Yuuji just enough time to finish his tattoo. 

“What a pity, this was a good one.” pouting his lips, Yuuji sighed. His disappointed face was almost child-like as if he just lost a toy.

“…too bad! HAHAHHA” The child-like expression on his face was wiped off abruptly. Yuuji’s eyes widened in hysterical pleasure as he ripped Matsukura’s head right out of his body, basking himself in the warmth of the gushing blood.

“Oi, Taka-kun, if I drink all this blood, will they run in my veins? I was hoping that they can wash away all those stinking ink in my body. Tsk…how annoying, right?” Yuuji gulped down his first sip and looked around to find Matsukura’s response. 

Matsukura’s head had rolled to a corner, with only the back of his head facing Yuuji. The fresh tattoo sat neatly above the bleeding neck, untouched by a single drop of blood.

**-end-**

**_✱ footnote ✱_ **

  * The word “遊” (yū) comes from Terushima’s first name, Yuuji 「遊児」
  * His name translates to “playful child”, and 「遊」 means play or playfulness. 
  * His name explains his child-like nature in Haikyuu too. But in this story, he lost the feeling of being a child way too young, and the light in him dimmed.
  * Tattooing the word on his victims is a declaration that this is mere gameplay to him. 
  * At the same time, he’s trying to remember who he was. He is constantly trying to wash away his traumas (represented by his tattoos) in order to return to his happier childhood days. 
  * shoji: the paper doors used in japan households. 
  * Matsukura clan: headed the Shimabara domain during the Edo period. 
  * Shimabara domain: populated by Christians, Shimabara was in the old Hizen province. Hizen province comprised of modern day Nagasaki and Saga prefectures.
  * Since Terushima is half Dutch in this story, I based him in Shimabara, Hizen. 
  * In reality, Arima Naozumi actually killed his Christian half-brothers (who were only 6 & 8 y/o respectively). 
  * btw did anyone catch the reference when muzan said “any human who are marked are just cursed abomination” !!!!! 



**Author's Note:**

> this was part of a project/series but I'm rebranding it as a short story instead...I'm not too happy with my project but i still wanna keep my very first piece of writing here! hope you can still enjoy this as a stand-alone piece :-)


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